


blood of the covenant

by UnrememberedSkies



Series: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Bloodthirstiness, Gen, Ghosts, Handling problems the Hargreeves way, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus makes a major decision without Ben, Mild Horror, Monster Cremation, Monsters, Non-Graphic Violence, Possession, Possessive Eldritch, which is a warning in itself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:32:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21546874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrememberedSkies/pseuds/UnrememberedSkies
Summary: Klaus asks a question he’s asked his brother a thousand times before. “What are we going to do?”Ben shrugs, looking helpless. “Find it? Kill it?”“With the help of your tentacle friends?” Klaus asks, watching his brother carefully.Ben doesn’t look at him. “Probably not.”He doesn’t elaborate, and Klaus glares at him in impotent frustration. He doesn’t like secrets. Reginald kept enough of them to last him several lifetimes. Klaus doesn’t have any secrets from Ben, and Ben should not have any secrets from him. Still, here they are.The Horror demands blood but Ben refuses to feed it. Klaus now has to deal with monstersandghosts following him around. Their siblings might not be quite as oblivious to what's going on as Ben and Klaus initially thought.(This series was initially called 'Wait For Life').
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1479443
Comments: 43
Kudos: 272





	blood of the covenant

**Author's Note:**

> The third part of the series formally known as 'Wait For Life' which I renamed because I just wasn't Vibing With It. Come talk to me on [Tumblr](https://unrememberedskies.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> Please see end notes for spoilery content warnings.

There are forty three bedrooms in the Academy. One for every miracle child Reginald intended to collect. The majority of those empty bedrooms sit like empty tombs, never used for what they were intended for. The torment of what might had been had almost scared young Klaus as much as the ghosts had, so even with his endless curiosity, the empty wing of the Academy had gone unexplored.

Now, though, Ben wants no door left unopened, no dust left undisturbed, no secrets left concealed. 

Ben has always been unnerving in his intensity, although usually he directs it towards reading every book in Reginald’s extensive library, or in his fruitless attempts at trying to get Klaus sober when they were living on the streets and Klaus kept making bad decisions. Since coming back from whatever place the Horror took him, though, Ben has turned his intensity onto finding the creature that came back with him.

Klaus has tried to ask what is so bad about this one, but Ben simply replied that he was sick of sharing a house with uninvited Eldritch monsters. 

Ben drifts nonchalantly through walls whilst Klaus peers beneath dust sheets and behind moth-eaten curtains with nervous anticipation.

They have been searching for hours, and have come up empty. Klaus slumps down on a chair with faded red velvet cushion, sending up a cloud of dust.

“This is useless,” he complains. Ben shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets and gives him a dark look. “Are we sure-?”

“We’re sure,” Ben interrupts. He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit Klaus has only started noticing in the last few days. “Something came through. And we need to find it.”

Klaus brings his knees up to his chest, hugging them. The soles of his bare feet are grey with dust. “And what if we don’t?”

Ben gives him a look Klaus is intimately familiar with: the one where Ben can’t believe how stupid Klaus is being. “We have to. Do you really want some creature from the monster dimension roaming the house unchecked?”

Klaus gnaws on his lower lip. “So, there’s a whole dimension full of these things?”

“Yep.” Ben sighs. “And with the two of us they have an all access pass to our world.”

Klaus says nothing, just rests his chin on his knees and clicks his teeth together. Ben stares at him for a moment, before averting his gaze. Klaus asks a question he’s asked his brother a thousand times before. “What are we going to do?”

Ben shrugs, looking helpless. “Find it? Kill it?”

“With the help of your tentacle friends?” Klaus asks, watching his brother carefully.

Ben doesn’t look at him. “Probably not.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and Klaus glares at him in impotent frustration. He doesn’t like secrets. Reginald kept enough of them to last him several lifetimes. Klaus doesn’t have any secrets from Ben, and Ben should not have any secrets from him. Still, here they are.

Klaus lowers his feet back to the floor with a beleaguered sigh. “Guess we should carry on.”

“Yeah,” says Ben, and phases through the wall. Klaus scowls at the creepy, peeling wallpaper for a while before exiting the room and traipsing down the dark corridor to the next one. Ben can cover more ground but it’s down to Klaus to be thorough in his search. His brother hasn’t asked to be manifested and Klaus hasn’t offered. There is something unspoken and uncomfortable between them and it makes Klaus’s heart ache and his hands clammy. 

Ben sticks his head through the wall, making Klaus jump back with a cut-off shriek. Ben grins like he can’t help himself, then his face returns to the humourless mask it has been since he came back. “There’s a creepy armoire in here, might be worth a look.”

Klaus goes through the door, his gaze landing on the suspect piece of furniture. “It’s a wardrobe, dude, do you have to be so pretentious?”

“Always,” Ben says, folding his arms, and looking impatient. Klaus rolls his eyes and approaches the wardrobe with caution, half leaning away from it as he opens the doors.

The smell of must hits him and he wrinkles his nose. There appears to be only a disconcerting array of dated women’s clothing hanging in the wardrobe, fur and silk and all sorts of treasures that Klaus wishes he’d discovered years ago.

He strokes the material with reverent fingers, lost in the fantasy, when another voice cuts through the quiet. 

“Hey, Klaus. What are you up to?”

It is meant to sound casual, but because it comes from Luther, it is anything but. Klaus drops his hand from the clothes and turns, catching Ben’s eye before giving his full attention to Luther, framed in the doorway. “Looking for Narnia. Can I help you?”

“No, I just…” Luther edges into the room. “Nobody goes into this part of the house so I thought…” He trails off again, glances around the room. “Is Ben here?”

Klaus’s gaze flickers to Ben, who is watching Luther intently. “Yeah,” Klaus says slowly. He points. “He’s right there.”

Luther looks over to what Klaus assumes appears as an empty space to him. “Hey, Ben.”

Ben doesn’t reply, not that Luther would hear anyway. “He says ‘hi’,” Klaus says, in a strange bid to try and hide Ben’s rudeness.

Luther offers a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes and Klaus realise he’s not the only one that’s got something awkward going on with Ben. Quite impressive since he’s the only one who can talk to him all the time.

Luther shakes his head like he’s trying to rid himself of a buzzing fly. “Anyway, I just came to see if you were okay. It’s kinda lonely over this side of the house. Didn’t want you getting in any trouble and none of us knowing.”

Klaus smiles. “You know me, Luther. There’s trouble around every corner when I’m involved.”

Luther gives a genuine smile. “That’s what I’m worried about. Just give us a shout if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Klaus agrees, and watches as Luther leaves.

There is a long silence.

“He thinks we’re up to something,” Ben says, still watching the doorway.

“Aren’t we?” Klaus shoots back, pushing the clothes aside with reckless abandon, looking for any sign of a monster nest. “Nothing here.”

They search through another two rooms before Klaus gives up. “I’m done,” he says, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. “If this thing is as bad as you say, I’m sure it’ll find us sooner rather than later.”

He doesn’t wait for Ben’s answer, just makes his way back down the corridor to the main part of the house. As he approaches the living room, he hears raised voices.

“-want that thing out of the kitchen, Five. It’s a health hazard.”

“Don’t be such a baby. I’ve taken every precaution to assure a sterile environment.”

Klaus enters the living room to find Allison and Five squaring off against each other. “What’s going on?” he asks, flopping onto the settee.

Allison turns to him, pouncing on a potential ally. “I’m telling Five that he needs to dispose of that disgusting monster corpse that is still making our kitchen unusable.”

Klaus gives Five a sympathetic look. “It _is_ starting to smell a bit, buddy.”

Five narrows his eyes at Klaus, but to Klaus’s surprise, gives in. “Fine,” he says, with a long-suffering sigh. “I suppose any further findings may be compromised by decomposition.”

“Thank you,” Allison says, looking equally surprised at how easily that particular argument was won.

“They should burn it,” Ben says, perched on the arm of the settee.

“Ben says you should burn it,” Klaus repeats.

Five snaps his gaze over to him. “Hey, can you manifest him? I want to show him what I’ve found.”

Klaus glances at Ben, who gives a slight shake of his head. Klaus winces. “Sorry, little buddy, neither me nor Ben are feeling up to it right now.”

Five deflates a little, doesn’t even pick Klaus up on the nickname. “Okay,” he says. “Well, it’s all written up in my notebook, if he ever wants to read through it. I know he was interested.”

“He’ll definitely do that,” Klaus says, knowing Ben is not going to offer any response of his own. 

“Let’s get this whole monster burning thing sorted out,” Allison says briskly. “We need to get that thing out of the kitchen and into the courtyard.” She points at Five. “I’m sure one of the guys will help you out.”

She strides out of the room, and Five pulls a face at Klaus before following her. Klaus turns to look at Ben, and sees him hunched over, clutching his stomach, face screwed up in pain. 

“You okay?”

Ben looks like he’s swallowing down a rock, but he sets his face to cool indifference. “I’m fine,” he says, standing. “We should be there for the burning. Make sure they do it properly.” He walks out of the room, through the door this time, and doesn’t look back to see if Klaus is following.

Klaus rubs his palms on his leather pants; it does nothing to get rid of the clamminess.

* * *

The burning of the monster corpse is strangely reminiscent of their father’s funeral. The seven of them stand in a semi-circle, this time not around Luther holding the urn, but around a large metal drum in which a petroleum-fuelled fire burns bright yellow against the gathering dusk.

The whole family have gathered for the event, all feeling like they have a personal stake in ensuring that the creature is completely destroyed. Vanya has only just managed to get its blood fully out of her hair.

There is an acrid smell as the monster corpse is consumed by the flames, and they all tuck their noses into their sleeves or the collars of their jackets. All except Five, who stands cheerfully with his hands in his pockets, watching the flames flicker and spark.

Klaus and Ben stand at the far end of the courtyard, closest to the kitchen door. Klaus puffs on his cigarette, trying to stop the trembling in his hands. His gaze is torn between the burning corpse and the clenching of Ben’s jaw.

They stand in silence, and it’s different from the funeral because it doesn’t end in a fight. They simply watch as the flames burn themselves out. Five and Luther move forward and peer into the smoking barrel. Luther turns and gives the rest of them the thumbs up. They disperse.

As he passes Klaus and Ben, Diego rests his hand on Klaus’s shoulder. “You okay?” His eyes are intense, but his voice is soft with that particular gentleness he only has for Klaus.

Klaus smiles, weakly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Diego’s gaze searches Klaus’s for any hint of a lie. Klaus doesn’t know what he sees, but he squeezes Klaus’s shoulder and then disappears inside.

Klaus glances at Ben, but Ben is still staring at the smoking drum, his jaw clenched. “You coming inside?”

“Mm.”

Klaus heads inside, through the empty kitchen and starts to climb the stairs. 

“Klaus, wait up!” 

He stops obediently and turns to see Luther at the bottom of the stairs. He waits as Luther jogs up to join him, watching his brother expectantly. They fall into stride, climbing the rest of the stairs. Luther holds the door open for him, and Klaus goes through, wondering what he’s missing.

“So, I really want to get this redecorating done,” Luther says. “I think we all need somewhere we can really relax and no one’s going to do that in a place that feels like Dad and our childhood.” Luther’s revelation that their dad was an asshole and their childhood a nightmare came later than everybody else’s, but now that it’s finally arrived, he is handling it with the same single-minded determination he does everything.

“Absolutely,” Klaus agrees, glancing behind him to see if Ben is following. The bottom of the stairs is empty. “I heard Allison and Diego arguing about the relative benefits of mid-century modern and shabby chic earlier today. Didn’t realise Mr Boiler Room had such strong opinions on interior design.”

Luther laughs, and it’s such an unfamiliar reaction to Klaus that Klaus almost trips over the top stair. “Well, those two have clearly got the design element down. I’m going to make myself useful by picking up some tools at the hardware store.” He glances at Klaus, looking a little nervous. “I thought maybe you might like to join me?”

Klaus just manages to stop himself from pulling a face. Trailing round a hardware store doesn’t sound like something he’d enjoy even a little bit, but Luther looks so hopeful that he swallows back the automatic ‘no’. 

“Sure,” he finds himself saying, remembering what Ben said the other day about how Klaus should spend more time with his living siblings. He still doesn’t agree entirely with the idea, and he’s a little pissed at Ben at the moment, but this seems like a positive step. It will at least get him out of the house.

They make arrangements to go to the store the next morning, then go their separate ways. Klaus trails up the stairs to the spare bedroom he’s taken up residence in. His room is still covered in monster blood and he can’t bring himself to clean it. He’d slept in this particular bedroom for a few weeks when he was fourteen, and had accidentally (on purpose) set his bed on fire. It doesn’t hold the same empty tomb atmosphere as the other spare bedrooms.

The corridor is dark and as he pads along the carpeted floor, he thinks he hears breathing alongside his own. He stops, holds his breath as he listens. There is silence. But he can’t help the feeling that he is not alone.

He stands frozen for long minutes, before heading towards his temporary bedroom with quickened footsteps. He closes the door behind him and leans back against it, gaze flicking to the corners of the room, making sure nothing has followed him inside. 

It takes a while for him to be satisfied that nothing is lurking under his bed, or behind the curtains. He pulls off his shirt and tosses it on the floor, crawls into bed and shivers under the blankets until he falls into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Klaus awakes feeling worse than when he went to sleep. He is jerked out of dreams of the mausoleum with a strangled yell, and spends several minutes hunched over, shivering violently. When he can finally lift his head, his first instinct is to look around the room for Ben.

He is alone. 

Terror strikes him, chilling him to the core. Ben had already tried to move on once, what if he’s actually done it this time?

“Ben?” he says hoarsely. “Ben, where are you? I need you.”

His voice sounds pathetic and vulnerable in the silence of the room, and had Klaus not forgone any sense of shame years ago, he might be embarrassed by it. He sits, and waits for Ben to show. He is disappointed.

With a shuddering breath, he clambers out of bed, the cold air hitting his bare skin and raising goosebumps. He trails along the hallway to the bathroom, and turns on the shower, letting it run hot until the bathroom is filled with steam.

He steps into the tub and lets the scalding water warm his icy body. He always wakes up chilled after nightmares of the mausoleum, as if the dead’s cold fingers can reach him through his dreams.

He closes his eyes and tilts his head upwards, towards the spray. He thinks perhaps the hot water might be burning the sensitive skin of his eyelids, but he can’t feel anything.

He stays in the shower until the water runs cold, and spares a vague hope that his siblings have already had their morning showers. He wraps himself in a towel and returns to the bedroom, hoping to find Ben sat on his bed, or gazing out of the window with his hands clasped behind his back like an old man, as he is sometimes prone to do.

He is neither of those places, his continued absence making an already terrible start to the day worse. Klaus dresses on autopilot, slipping on a chunky knitted cardigan to ward off the chill. Once dressed, he wanders back down the hallway, even risking a glance into his own room.

“Ben?” he says softly, as he opens the door a fraction. There is a strange, bitter smell lingering in the air, and the black blood that splattered over his walls and belongings is starting to congeal. Klaus stares at it, wondering, with a little nausea, what it would feel like to touch. He is just about to reach out and find out when a woman with a bloody mess of a stomach steps out from behind the door, reaching with twitching hands towards him.

Klaus yelps and scrambles back. He makes brief, uncomfortable eye contact with her before stumbling off down the hallway, half running, half-falling down the stairs.

At the bottom, he glances back up to make sure that she is not following him, before heading into the kitchen. It smells strongly of bleach, which overpowers any lingering smell of monster blood in Klaus’s nostrils.

He goes to the fridge and takes out the orange juice and drinks it straight from the carton. “Aren’t you proud of me?” he says to the empty room. “Starting my day with orange juice, just like you wanted.”

There is no answer, and Klaus puts the carton back into the fridge, staring at the contents for a while before closing the door. He will not be following Ben’s other piece of advice and having eggs, he feels far too nauseous for that.

He fumbles in the pocket of his pants and pulls out the cigarette he rolled last night. Lighting it, he takes a long drag before sitting down and putting his feet up on the tabletop. He puffs anxiously on it until the tip burns his fingers, then stubs it out in the sink and drops it down the plughole. He itches for something stronger.

Especially when he spots movement out of the corner of his eye, and turns to see _the wrong ghost_ , yet again, lurking behind the shelves.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?” he snarls, fishing in his pocket for his papers and tobacco and rolling himself another cigarette angrily, if only to give his shaking hands something to do.

“Klaus?” Luther comes down into the kitchen, surprisingly silent for such a big man. “You talking to Ben?”

Klaus snorts. “Chance would be a fine thing.” He doesn’t meet Luther’s eye, and continues to roll his cigarette.

Luther, thankfully, chooses not to pursue the subject matter. “Are you ready to go?”

Klaus, looks up, confused, then remembers. The hardware store. “Shit. Right. Uh…” He’s tempted to say he’s not feeling up to it, but frankly he doesn’t want to stay at the Academy and be driven from room to room by irritating ghosts. “Sure,” he says, “let’s go.”

* * *

It’s nice to get out of the Academy, breathe air that isn’t steeped in dusty antiques, or thousands of books, or monster blood. Klaus rolls the window down fully and breathes in deeply, trying to let all the untainted oxygen clear his crowded head and banish all the ghosts and fears about Ben.

They pull up in the parking lot and Klaus trots at Luther’s side, even feeling quite light-hearted as he tells Luther about the time he fell asleep in one of the display units, and stayed there all night until the security guard had found him and kicked him out the next morning. Luther laughs and says that he hopes the same security guard isn’t on this time.

Once they’re inside the store, though, things start to go to hell. The lights are too bright, there is a potent smell combination of paint and sawdust, and the sound of tinny music from the speakers is just loud enough to make Klaus’s head ring.

He trails after Luther who is putting power tools, tins of paint, and bits of timber into the cart with the enthusiasm of a kid at a candy store. Beside Klaus walks a man with a bloody store uniform and a huge, gaping gash down the side of his face, neck and chest. He shouts at Klaus incomprehensibly about workplace accidents and coverups. 

Somewhere along the line, Klaus loses sight of Luther. But unfortunately, not the ghost. Klaus puts his hands over his ears and screws his eyes shut, leaning back against the shelves. He swears he can feel the man’s spittle on his face as he yells at him. 

“Just shut up, shut up!” he gasps, lashing out blindly, and hitting something solid. For a heart-stopping second, he thinks he’s managed to manifest the ghost into physical reality. Then, a large sweaty hand grabs his wrist, and pain explodes in the side of his face as a fist connects with it.

Klaus falls back into the shelving, the sharp edges of timber digging into his back. No ghost has ever punched him, except Ben, and that definitely was not Ben. He blinks rapidly and looks at the thickset bearded man in front of him. He is not a ghost, he is very much alive, and he is angry.

“You goddamn piece of shit,” the man says, fists clenched. The dead staff member is stood next to him, still shouting at Klaus, oblivious to the accidental fist fight that has broken out. 

Klaus stares at the alive man in helpless confusion. His head is banging and he has two angry men standing before him, one of them threatening further violence. _Where the hell is Luther?_

“You got anything to say, punk?” The man says, and when Klaus just gapes at him, he leans forward, reaching out to grab Klaus by the collar. 

As he leans in Klaus spots someone over his shoulder. “Ben,” he gasps, relief flooding through him.

But there is something wrong. Ben’s face is pale, shining with sweat, his body vibrating with tension. And his eyes… his eyes are black, the whites completely disappeared. There is an unearthly blue glow surrounding him.

The man must see the way Klaus’s eyes widen, the way he completely forgets about the immediate threat of violence, because he turns and follows Klaus’s gaze.

“Step away from him,” Ben says, and his voice echoes with that of the Horror.

He’s going to release the Horror right here in this hardware store, Klaus realises, he’s going to kill this man. He is going to tear him apart for hurting Klaus. And Klaus’s powers are helping him, somehow, because Ben is manifested. That blue glow is the signature of Klaus’s own powers.

“You starting, too?” the man asks, squaring up to Ben, but there is a note of uncertainty in his voice, spooked by Ben’s black eyes and complete stillness.

Ben clenches his jaw, like he is trying to swallow something back, keep it inside. Klaus desperately tries to rein in his powers, but doesn’t know how.

Ben gasps, chokes, lurches forward. “Run,” he says, in a single voice. “Get out of here.”

He is talking to the man, Klaus realises. He is trying to save him from himself. But the man is frozen. Doesn’t he realise he is about to die? “Get out of here!” Klaus shouts at him, still watching Ben, who is beginning to convulse.

Suddenly, there is a flurry of movement, a large body blocks Klaus’s view and drags the man away, shoving him forcefully down the aisle.

With nothing between them, Klaus and Ben meet each other’s gaze. Behind the blackness, Klaus can see terror. Then Ben disappears, and Klaus is left staring at an empty space, the yelling of the ghost sounding strangely distant.

* * *

Luther keeps glancing across at him, while Klaus stares steadfastly out of the window, chewing on his thumbnail.

“What-?”

“Don’t,” Klaus interrupts harshly. He sighs. “Just don’t, Luther.”

Luther shuts up, keeps his gaze on the road for the rest of the journey. When they pull up outside the Academy, Klaus has his seatbelt unfastened and is out of the car before Luther has even put the parking brake on.

He crashes through the doors and takes the stairs two at a time. He crosses the hallway in record time, throws open the door to the spare room and slams it shut behind him.

He addresses the empty room. “You better not hide from me after that display, you prick.”

There is a second’s hesitation, and then Ben appears in front of him. His eyes are back to normal, but he still looks like he is fighting back a fever. He looks at Klaus, Klaus looks at him.

“Well?” Klaus says, his bravado suddenly gone.

Ben looks at him helplessly, then looks away, sitting on the edge of Klaus’s bed. “I was going to kill him.”

Klaus snorts. “Yeah, I know.” Shoulders slumping, Klaus sits down beside him. “But you held it back.”

The tiny shake of his head that Ben gives is barely a movement, more an involuntary muscle spasm. “No. If Luther hadn’t moved him out of the way…”

Klaus looks down at his own hands in his lap. “I manifested you,” he says. “I didn’t even realise I was doing it. If anything, this is my fault.”

“You were afraid.” Ben looks sightlessly at the door across the room. “I could feel your fear, pulling me like a magnet.”

Klaus frowns, shaking his head slowly. “But it was just some asshole guy, posturing because I hit him by accident. I’ve met worse.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

Klaus reaches out a shaking hand, and places it on Ben’s arm. He feels the muscles beneath his hand tense at his touch, and quickly withdraws. He swallows. “Tell me the truth,” he begs. “Tell me what happened when the Horror took you. Tell me what’s scared you so much.”

Ben swallows. “The Horror wants blood. It’s got a taste for it again and now it’s refusing to go without.”

Klaus frowns. The Horror has always wanted blood, and as a child and teenager Ben kept it well-fed on missions. And then he died, and that was the end of it. Until… “Because I conjured you,” he says, realisation sitting heavily on his stomach. “In the theatre. I conjured you to kill those guys shooting at us.”

Ben’s silence is more telling than any words he could have used. Ben has never been one for meaningless platitudes. He is always brutally honest with Klaus, whether Klaus appreciates it or not. He won’t tell Klaus it’s not his fault. Because that would be a lie.

Klaus gives a shaky nod, squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make him disappear. He understands, now, why Ben wanted to go. He hates that he understands, but he does.

He swallows, and opens his eyes. Ben is watching him sadly. “What did it say to you? To make you stay?” Ben’s eyes widen a fraction and he lowers his gaze. Klaus sets his jaw. “Don’t keep secrets from me, Ben. We don’t have secrets from each other.”

Ben nods, but still hesitates. “It said that if I crossed over into Death’s dimension and stopped being a portal for it, then it would…” He trails off, and glances at Klaus, who narrows his eyes. Ben clears his throat. “It said it would take you instead. Use you as its portal to the mortal realm. And any other realm it fancies, I guess.”

Klaus processes this. “It can do that?”

“Apparently.”

They sit in silence for several minutes.

Klaus coughs. “Maybe I-”

“Shut up, Klaus. I didn’t make a deal with the devil just for you to make some stupid selfless offer for me to get out of it. Self-sacrifice doesn’t suit you.” Ben sounds genuinely angry, and Klaus finds it strangely comforting. He’s on more familiar ground now.

“Hey, I’m not thrilled by the prospect either. I just thought it’d make me an asshole if I didn’t offer.”

“You _are_ an asshole,” Ben says immediately, and Klaus smiles. “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

They sit in comfortable silence, and Klaus stares at a shadow in the corner of his room that could look like a lurking monster, if you squinted.

“So this other monster that came through with you, is it bad?”

Ben picks at the material of his jeans, not meeting Klaus’s eyes. He sighs. “I don’t know. In the grand scheme of things? Probably not.”

Klaus considers this. “Were you maybe trying to distract yourself from the real problem that is the one in your belly?”

Ben shrugs. “Maybe?” He looks at Klaus. “I don’t know about you, but I kind of feel like the fewer monsters we have running about the house, the better.”

“Agreed.” Klaus pauses. “I think it was watching me last night.”

Ben nods like he’s not surprised by this. “That figures. You’re basically catnip to monsters.”

Klaus tilts his head at him, smiling wickedly. “Is that why you like me so much?”

“No,” Ben says, seriously, and for a moment Klaus worries that he has offended him. “I liked you first. Those basic bitches just copied me.”

Klaus laughs out loud, pressing his forehead to Ben’s shoulder until the laugh dies to a snicker and he pulls his head away.

He edges closer to Ben, so their legs are almost pressing up against each other. “Don’t keep things from me, Benny.” He prods him in the arm, and Ben bats him away with a smile. Klaus returns it for a moment before his face goes serious again. “We can work this out, but we can only do it together, remember? It’s you me against the world.”

Ben nods. “I know,” he says. He looks sheepish. “I guess I’d forgotten.”

“Don’t forget again.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

* * *

Klaus and Ben sit on the floor of the mezzanine overlooking the living room. Luther’s record player has been brought downstairs and David Bowie is blasting, drowning out Luther and Diego’s bickering as they paint the new coffee table Allison found at some hipster second-hand furniture shop. They aren’t aware that Klaus and Ben are up there, otherwise Klaus would no doubt be roped into helping.

“Maybe you could join Diego on one of his vigilante jaunts?” Klaus suggests, dragging his knuckles along the balustrade.

“Yeah, I’m sure some poor bank robbers really deserve to get torn apart,” Ben says moodily, picking at the hem of his jeans.

“If they don’t want to get torn apart, they shouldn’t rob a bank,” Klaus says, shrugging. Ben throws him a look and his shoulders slump. “Okay, I see your point.” He lapses back into thought, absently singing along to ‘Modern Love’.

Ben has his arms crossed very tightly across his middle. Klaus sighs, drums his fingers against his knees. Inspiration strikes. “Okay, we should move on from people who may or may not deserve to die. That’s a moral debate I am not equipped to argue. But what about people who are going to die anyway?”

Ben gives him the side eye, even as he winces and tightens his arms around his stomach. “Hear me out,” Klaus says, waving his hands. “Terminally ill people, who are going to die very soon anyway. You could make their deaths more meaningful – their death will mean somebody else lives.”

Ben full on gapes at him, mouth hanging open. “Jesus Christ, Klaus.”

Klaus folds his arms petulantly. “I’m trying to think of options here! If you’re going to shoot down every single one of my ideas…”

Ben closes his eyes, then speaks very carefully. “I am not going to go into a hospital, and ask a terminally ill person if they would like to be torn apart in order to save humanity.”

“Fine,” Klaus says, still sulking. He glances down at Luther and Diego. Luther is watching whilst Diego very delicately paints one of the coffee table legs. “Whatever you do, we need to tell them.”

“No.”

Klaus glances back at him. “But you’re the one who’s always telling me I need to reach out to them!”

“It’s different,” Ben says stubbornly.

“Why? Because it’s you in the shit this time and not me?”

Ben grimaces, and Klaus swallows down his indignation. It’s not entirely true. It’s not just Ben, it’s both of them. They are both responsible for releasing Eldritch monsters onto the world and giving them a taste for human blood.

“We need to tell them something,” he says softly. “In case they need to stop us.”

Ben gives a tight nod, and they both sit in silence, pondering that particular thought.

* * *

As it turns out, they don’t need to find a way to tell their siblings, because their siblings outright ask them. Klaus can tell they’re trying not to make it feel like an ambush, but when Klaus wanders into the kitchen intending to toast and devour an entire loaf of bread and finds himself confronted by five serious-faced siblings, he can’t help but feel ambushed.

“Hey, Klaus,” Allison says gently. “How’re you doing?”

Klaus gives each of them a wide-eyed look, then edges over to the breadbin. “Great,” he says. “Clean as a whistle, in case you were wondering.”

“We weren’t,” Diego says immediately. “Never thought for a second you weren’t.”

“We actually wanted to talk about something else,” Five says. He is sat at the head of the table with a mug of coffee and a full percolator, looking like he is ready to settle in for a while.

“That sounds like fun,” Klaus says, swiping some slices of bread from the packet, happy to eat them untoasted and dry if it means he can escape this conversation. “But I’m actually really tired so I’m just grabbing a quick snack then heading to bed.”

“Klaus, this is important,” Luther says. 

“Is Ben here?” Vanya asks, and Klaus turns to look at her, assessing her neutral tone. 

“Do you want him to be?”

“Of course,” she says, looking back steadily. Klaus looks away.

“We actually want to talk to both of you,” Allison says. “So maybe if he is here, perhaps you could manifest him?”

Klaus glances at Ben, who looks as cornered as Klaus feels. “Like I said, I’m feeling pretty tired,” Klaus hedges, “I’m not sure I can.”

“We wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Luther says, voice soft but brooking no argument.

“Do it, Klaus,” Ben says. “We said we had to tell them anyway.”

Klaus nods, and concentrates, his fists glowing blue. Ben shimmers into the physical plane, and gives an awkward wave to their assembled siblings. “Hi, guys.”

“Ben,” Allison says, “you look…” She trails off, and Klaus frowns, looking at Ben and wondering what she sees.

“Ben, man, are you all right?” Diego looks equally shocked. In fact, all of their siblings are looking at Ben like he’s grown an extra head or left a stray tentacle hanging out. 

Klaus looks at Ben – really looks at him. He supposes his brother does look a little paler than normal, his face taut with tension, dark shadows under his eyes. He stands stiffly, arms still wrapped around his middle, and he is clenching his fists so tightly the knuckles are white. He looks a little different from the last time they all saw him, Klaus supposes.

“I’ve been better,” Ben admits. “You wanted to talk to us about something?”

They all turn to look at Luther, who clears his throat and glances at Allison, presumably for moral support. “Um, yeah. So, we’re just a little concerned after… after what happened at the hardware store. And, we were wondering if there’s anything we can do to help with, you know, whatever’s going on.”

“That is to say, what _is_ going on?” Five asks, cutting through Luther’s hesitation.

Klaus is squashing the slices of bread to dough as he twists his hands. He and Ben knew that they would have to have this conversation, they just hadn’t planned for it to be so soon, hadn’t planned what they were going to say.

He blinks rapidly, before glancing at Ben for help. Ben doesn’t look at him but seems to feel his gaze. He sighs. “As you know, Klaus and I have been discovering new things about our powers. Some of it is good and means I get to talk to you guys, some of it is… not so good.”

“The Horror,” Vanya says.

“The Horror.” Ben leans against the counter, attempting to look casual but Klaus sees it for what it really is: Ben trying to conceal how much he is hunching over his own stomach. “It’s been a bit more active lately, ever since the night at the theatre.”

They all purposely avoid looking at the last sibling that went on an out of control rampage, and Klaus wishes Ben hadn’t brought that up.

“What do you mean, exactly, by active?” Allison asks.

Ben hesitates, then looks her directly in the eye. “It wants blood. Craves it. Will do anything, kill anyone, to get it.”

It’s something they all knew, intellectually, Klaus can tell. But it was one thing when they were going out on missions every day and the Horror was their greatest weapon, and quite another when they’re all living quietly together, trying to rebuild their lives, and the monster still needs to be fed.

“That’s always been the case, though, and you’ve never had any problem controlling it before.” Klaus can see the wheels turning in Five’s brilliant mind. But he doesn’t understand, none of them do.

“No,” Ben agrees. “Not when I was going out on regular missions, or when I was an incorporeal ghost who could only interact with Klaus. Now I’m back on the physical plane, everything’s changed.”

“But if Klaus doesn’t conjure you, you can’t enter the physical plane,” Five says. “Surely if the Horror starts to emerge Klaus can simply stop conjuring you.”

“Um,” Klaus interjects. “Not necessarily.” Five turns his sharp gaze on him and Klaus shrinks a little. “My ability to conjure Ben seems more based on my emotions than whether I actually want to conjure him or not. I- I must have conjured him subconsciously in the store, for instance.”

Their siblings say nothing for a few moments, until Diego speaks. “So, we deal with it. You two come with me out on the streets. We find some shitty guy, real low life, and you…” He gestures vaguely at Ben’s stomach, and Ben winces. “Y’know…” he concludes lamely.

“We did discuss this,” Klaus says. 

“I’m a little reluctant to play judge, jury, and executioner.”

“And what’s the alternative?” Five explodes. “You eventually lose control and kill some random person on the street? Or one of us?”

Ben seems to curl even further into himself, and for the first time in a long time, Klaus sees the frightened, easily-cowed little boy that he used to be. “Hey,” he says sharply, taking a step towards Five. “Some of us aren’t as comfortable with straight-up murdering people as you are, old man.”

Five stands as well, less than intimidated by Klaus’s anger. “Yeah, well maybe he needs to get comfortable real fast, because I don’t intend to get ripped apart in my own home because you two are a bit squeamish.”

“Careful, Number Five, you’re sounding an awful lot like Daddy dearest. We don’t need his input in the conversation, thank you very much.”

“Guys!” Vanya raises her voice, and they both look at her. “Ben’s gone.”

Klaus whirls around, can’t see his brother anywhere. Without a second look back, he heads out of the kitchen, up the stairs. At the top, Five appears in front of him. He is no longer shaking with rage, but there is instead a still, deadly calm about him.

“You need to work this out, Klaus. In case you don’t remember, I was ready to do what was necessary to save the world from Vanya, and she is dearer to me than anyone. Don’t think I won’t do the same with you two.”

“Yeah,” says Klaus, hiding his shaking hands behind his back. “You’re a real hero.” He pushes past Five and carries on through the house, half expecting Five to follow him. He doesn’t. 

When Klaus finally reaches the spare room, he collapses to his knees on the carpet, shaking, as tears drip down his face.

“He threatened you.”

Klaus looks up sharply, eyes widening as they settle on Ben stood in a darkened corner of the room, his face lowered. He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand, no doubt smudging eyeliner across his face. 

He swallows and looks at Ben, whose features are in shadow. There is something not quite right. He kneels back. “He’s afraid. They all are.” 

“Why do you defend him when he makes you hurt like this?”

Klaus slowly gets to his feet, not taking his eyes off the figure in the corner of his room. “Because he just wants to look after his family.”

“And are you not his family?”

Klaus takes a tentative step forward. “Of course, but for Five… I think maybe the group is more important than the individual.”

“Then he is a fool. You are far greater than any of them.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Klaus says, stopping before Ben’s body and reaching out with a hand that only shakes minutely. He takes hold of Ben’s chin and lifts it until he meets eyes.

Not Ben’s eyes, though. Not warm and brown and clever. Eyes that are as black as the void but that seem to glow red when Klaus looks at them from a certain angle. “Hello,” he says. “I don’t think we’ve ever spoken. I’m Klaus.”

“I know who you are,” the Horror says, with Ben’s voice. “I have watched you and protected you, held you while you slept.”

Klaus thinks back to the Horror tearing the parasite from his body, cradling him in its tentacles when he passed out in exhaustion. “I know,” he says. His hand drops from Ben’s chin and he and the Horror look at each other. Klaus continues. “I’d almost think you cared if you didn’t, y’know, threaten me in order to keep Ben in line.”

“I did not threaten you!” The Horror lurches forward and now Ben’s hands are on Klaus’s face, gripping and stroking with the uncertain but forceful movements of a creatures not used to touching with hands. 

The Horror grasps the back of Klaus’s head, keeping Klaus still, and brings its face up to his. “I sought only to keep you close. I wanted to bring you under my protection, offer you a place in my realm. But the Host disagreed on the best way to protect you. He thought you would be safer here, that you preferred the realm of the living to any alternative.” The Horror shakes him lightly. “Is that true?”

Klaus flounders. “Um, I- I have my family here. I don’t want to leave them.”

The Horror draws back, looking – if Klaus didn’t know better – offended. There’s a definite quirk to Ben’s lip that looks like a pout, and Klaus almost laughs at the absurdity of it all.

“The family that fear and threaten you?” 

Klaus wonders how to explain the realities of a family as dysfunctional as theirs to an Eldritch monster. How to explain that no matter how distanced he feels from them, no matter how wrapped up in their own lives they all are, no matter how often they hurl barbs and insults at one another, that he would die for every one of those idiots. He would sacrifice his happiness for theirs. He would face his every fear to make sure they were safe and happy.

He shrugs. “It’s more complicated than that. I love them.”

“Love,” the Horror repeats. “That is what drives the Host as well. It is a foolish human emotion.”

Klaus shrugs again, unable to disagree with that assessment.

“But it is strong. The Host’s love for you is what brings me into this world, his desire to protect you matches my own. And you, your love for the Host enables him to touch this world, even in death.”

Klaus grits his teeth. “His name is Ben. Not ‘the Host’. He is not your puppet.”

The Horror smiles, and it’s all teeth, even in Ben’s body. “There it is.” It reaches forward again, placing a hand on Klaus’s chest. “I can feel your fragile heart beating so fast it will break out of your chest. But you dare to contradict me, reproach me. You dared to reach into _my realm_ and take back the one you love. Can you see why I find you so fascinating?”

To be fair, Klaus’s heart _does_ feel like it’s about to break out of his chest. It is thudding against his ribcage in a way that’s becoming uncomfortable.

“That’s very flattering,” he says. “But trust me, I’m really not all that interesting.”

The Horror smiles again, moves Ben’s hand away from Klaus’s chest, flexes Ben’s fingers like it is testing the boundaries of his body. It steps away from Klaus, moving around him, beginning to pace the room, stretching and twisting its neck.

“Where is Ben?” Klaus asks quietly, turning to watch the Horror as it settles itself into his brother’s body.

The Horror looks at him. “I struck a bargain with… _Ben_ , and so far, he has not held up his end. I have decided to take matters into my own hands.” It waggles Ben’s fingers at him, still smiling that toothy grin. Since when did the Horror have a sense of humour?

“He promised you blood.”

“He did. But since then he has actively prevented me from tasting it.”

Klaus makes an aborted move towards the Horror, twisting his own hands in a nervous withdrawal habit he has never quite managed to shake. “What are you going to do?”

“I am going to take what is owed to me.”

It seems an elegant solution – let the Horror take its blood without Ben having to actively release it. Ben’s conscience is clear… sort of.

Only, there are five fresh bodies thrumming with blood in the immediate vicinity, and if Klaus had to choose between those five people and literally any other living human, he would choose them every time.

“Don’t hurt them,” he says, the words falling out of his mouth before he has time to consider them. “Don’t hurt my family.”

“They belittle and threaten you and keep you tethered to this world. I will drain their bodies and you will see how unworthy of you they are.”

Klaus is shaking again, and he isn’t sure if it is fear, or the less familiar anger. He crosses the room and gets up close to the Horror. “If you touch them,” he says, “I will fight for the rest of my life to ensure that you never get what you want. I will never cooperate with you, you will never have me, and I will work out a way to make sure you never taste blood again.”

A hand shoots out lightning fast and then the Horror has Klaus by the neck. It slams him up against the wall, knocking the breath from his body. It brings its face close to Klaus’s, and in the red-tinted darkness of those eyes, Klaus thinks he can see movement, shadows of terrible creatures with faces that haunt people’s nightmares.

“What do you suggest I do instead?” the Horror hisses.

Klaus looks deeper into those eyes, tries to see past the Eldritch monsters and find the one he is looking for. Behind the monstrosity, Ben is still in there, he knows he is. 

There is a light. A small but warm glow, amidst all the darkness and terror, and it glows brighter when Klaus finally notices it, like a flower blooming in the sun. Klaus smiles. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, with what little air he has. “I’m doing this for us.”

“What are you saying?” the Horror asks, and Klaus looks back up at it, at the monster wearing Ben’s face.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he says. “But I do have a new deal for you.”

The Horror narrows its eyes, although it does loosen its grip a little. Klaus sucks in air while he can. “I am reluctant to make any further bargains with either of you.”

“You asked me for an alternative. I’m giving you one. Do you want to hear it or not?”

The Horror searches his face for a moment, before releasing its grip on his neck. Klaus slumps a little, coughing, his eyes watering. “Go on,” the Horror says, looking at him with unnerving intensity.

Klaus straightens a little, leaning against the wall for support. “Ben promised you blood. And that’s still on the table, but you can’t just tear apart random douchebags in Home Depot. And we’ve already established that my siblings are not an option.”

“So what is the option?” the Horror asks, with growing impatience.

“Me,” Klaus says.

The tiny twitch of the Horror’s eye gives Klaus the impression that he’s actually managed to shock the Eldritch monster. Points to Klaus, he thinks wryly.

“My part of the bargain was a promise not to hurt you,” the Horror says. “The… Ben might protest this arrangement.”

“Ben’s not here,” Klaus says, with a twinge of guilt. “And the thing is, I’m not all that easy to hurt. Or rather… the hurt doesn’t stick. I can’t die. Not permanently anyway.”

The Horror only stares at him, apparently knocked speechless.

Klaus barrels on, tries not to think about whether this is the most stupid decision he’s ever made. It’s hard to tell when Ben isn’t there to share his opinion. “I die, I go to heaven or wherever, and some little girl sends me right back. It’s the perfect solution! You taste blood, but no permanent damage is done. And Ben hasn’t really killed anyone.”

Klaus steadfastly ignores the bit where he gets torn apart. Possibly more than once.

“And the Host, he will accept this arrangement?”

_Not in a million years._ “He’ll have to,” Klaus insists. “What other choice do we have?”

“And this is preferable to you than my taking one of the others?”

“I can’t die,” Klaus says. “Might as well make use of it.”

He truly has thrown the Horror for the loop. He’s thrown himself, to be honest. Ben is going to kill him. 

If there’s anything left to kill.

Klaus quickly shuts down that train of thought, not wanting to linger on the gory details. He’s doing this to save his family, he’s doing this so Ben doesn’t have someone else’s death on his conscience. He has this awful, useless power that means he can’t remain in the afterlife with Dave. So he might as well make the most of it.

“The deal is you have my blood and no one else’s. I come back, and when you get a hankering you come to me, and me only. And you don’t make Ben kill people he doesn’t want to.”

“But he will kill you,” the Horror says, looking like it is trying to work out if this is all a trick.

“Temporarily,” Klaus says. “That’s all.” He holds out a hand. “Do we have a deal?”

The Horror looks down at the extended hand. There is a tense moment when Klaus is entirely unsure what it will say. He doesn’t know which answer is worse.

The Horror takes his hand, and drags him closer. “We have a deal,” it says, and its voice is changed, deeper, echoing, ancient. The monster is coming.

Klaus shakes as the tentacles emerge. Everything seems to be in slow motion. The Horror is in no rush. It will take its time with him.

His shaking is out of control. Hot tears spill from his eyes as the tentacles curl around his body, locking him in like a deadly cocoon. 

Ben’s face is a mockery of pity worn by a creature who knows no such thing. “Don’t cry, child. Your blood will taste sweet.”

The tentacles tighten and twist.

Klaus screams.

Oblivion.

**Author's Note:**

> TW for character death, sort of, but not really, because it's Klaus.
> 
> This fic has been a labour of love and has taken me much longer to write than any of the other parts. The only thing I was certain about in terms of plot was the very end, because I'm twisted like that. The middle part of this fic changed considerably over the course of writing, but I like what I've settled on.
> 
> If you do too, please drop me a comment and/or kudos. It's so incredible to know that I have a readership for this somewhat niche series. Sending non-tentacley hugs to all of you!


End file.
